


Let them show (your true colours)

by todaslasmadrugadas



Series: The End of the Rainbow [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1980s, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Angst, Christmas, Coming Out, Established Relationship, Everybody Lives, HIV/AIDS Crisis, M/M, Marauders, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23045878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/todaslasmadrugadas/pseuds/todaslasmadrugadas
Summary: Beautiful like a rainbow.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Series: The End of the Rainbow [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1651339
Comments: 8
Kudos: 66





	Let them show (your true colours)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, guys!
> 
> This fic is a sequel to my own "The Boys of Summer", but it can be read as a stand-alone muggle AU.
> 
> It was supposed to be released on Christmas, but personal obligations have delayed me from finishing it on time, so, uh... enjoy this festive fic in March!
> 
> This work is part of a muggle AU universe me and @electracute created, called "The End of the Rainbow". The stories will expand in different directions and focus on various characters, so there'll be something for everyone there! As always, this story is dedicated to her.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Sirius! Why can’t I find the fruit mix?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“Well, come help me find it!”

Sirius rubs his eyes and gets up from his living room armchair. Upon entering the kitchen, he lets out a long-suffering sigh. “It’s on the table right behind you, Remus.”

“Oh,” is all Remus says in acknowledgement, before snatching the bowl and stirring its contents.

Sirius, having avoided to get in Remus’ hair until now, takes in the sight before him for the first time: their small kitchenette resembles a culinary warzone. Fruits, nuts and spices are spread haphazardly all over every surface. An egg has fallen on the floor and has been hastily cleaned up, colouring the tiles orange.

And in the midst of that scenery, his boyfriend is trying to make a Christmas pudding like his life depends on it. His hair is covered in crumbs and flour, his back is hunched and his hands are slightly trembling.

“Babe, why don’t you take a break?” Sirius dares to reluctantly suggest, bracing himself: he knows that when Remus is in one of these moods, one must tread carefully.

“I can’t take a break, Sirius! If I take a break now, there is no way in hell I’ll have it ready on time!”

“But you look like you really need it! Besides, isn’t it a bit late to be making pudding now? It’s three days to Christmas!”

“It can be eaten just fine without maturing. I can’t make a fucking Christmas dinner without pudding! It’s bad enough we won’t have turkey as it is!” Remus puts his hands in his hair. “Fuck! Why can’t I get the hang of this thing?” his voice has gradually risen to an alarmingly high level. “It’s just a fucking pudding!”

“Well, being that much on edge can’t be helping things,” Sirius suggests in a calm tone. “Why are you acting like this? Your parents won’t care whether you have turkey or chicken or whether there’s pudding or not!”

“No, you don’t understand!” Remus turns to face him and his eyes are full of desperation. “Everything has to be perfect! Otherwise… otherwise…” he doesn’t seem to be able to continue. He takes a heaving breath and drags his hands through his face.

Sirius lets out a sigh. He crosses the distance between himself and his boyfriend and softly removes Remus’ hands from his face.

“Love, come sit down for a bit and talk to me. The pudding can wait.”

Remus looks like he’s going to argue against that for a moment, but then nods affirmatively, his eyes shiny with not-yet-cast tears. Sirius takes his hand and they enter the living room. They sit in their respective chairs: Sirius close to the door, Remus by the window (he needs the light to read and study).

There is a brief silence that Sirius takes advantage of to marvel at how, had this exact situation happened three or four months ago, he would have answered Remus’ hysteria with indignation, resulting most probably in a screaming match.

We’ve come a long way in quite a short time, he muses, before addressing Remus.

“This is about your parents visiting, right?”

“I… Yes.”

“Why? I thought you’d be thrilled to have them here!”

Hope and Lyall had called them two days prior, on the 21st of December, to inform them that they’d visit London for Christmas. They would stay at some old friends’ house, but wanted to spend Christmas day with their son.

Remus had appeared happy at the news, though there was, of course, an undercurrent of anxiety that Sirius, too, shared; how were they going to hide their relationship from Remus’ parents in their own house?

After meeting again in London through a series of highly improbable events, ten months ago, Sirius and Remus had almost immediately resumed the relationship they were forced to cut short due to the circumstances, when they were sixteen. Not even three months later, Sirius moved out of his shitty East End apartment and in with Remus.

During the first two months, everything seemed perfect. They reconnected, made up for lost time, spent almost every moment together. Sirius felt like life was finally compensating him for the awful things that happened to him in his adolescence. For what seemed like the first time, he felt like he was truly happy.

Of course, even then Sirius knew, in the back of his mind, that things couldn’t possibly stay picture-perfect for too long: and sure enough, reality confirmed his apprehension.

Even back when they were teenagers basking in their summer romance, Sirius knew that his mentality differed from Remus’ in some aspects. Back then, that was only an insignificant triviality that meant very little to him: he was absolutely smitten with Remus and did not care much about anything else.

Four years later, those differences had shown themselves at full force.

One of the matters in which they differed radically, was that of their queer identity: Sirius found it unbearable to hide who he was: he had opted to lose his inheritance, his security, contact with his brother whom he missed terribly, rather than play a role; Remus, on the other hand, is much more guarded with his, calling Sirius a reckless idiot every time he joins a protest or a queer event. Sirius knows it all comes from a place of concern, but he still can’t help getting a bit annoyed. Plus, Remus has yet to come out to his parents, though they are much more tolerant and understanding than Sirius’.

Another difference is that Sirius, from the moment he was disinherited, almost immediately became an active member of London’s queer community, feeling like he had finally found a place where he belonged, people who understood him: he made many true friends, participated in as many events as he could, and often fought for his rights, with words and with actions, sometimes even getting in trouble with the law after a protest turned into a riot.

When Sirius tried to introduce Remus to his friends and the scene in general, however, one or two months into their relationship, things did not go very well: although both Remus and his friends appeared amicable enough, Sirius, who knew all parties well, could see plain as day that his boyfriend was more guarded than usual, and that his friends could not seem to find one topic to discuss with him without Sirius aiding the conversation.

At first, he pinned it down to the awkwardness all first meetings are bound to suffer from, but then they went out for a second time, and a third one, and things were not getting better: on the contrary, it seemed like after a while, everyone was looking for an excuse to leave early.

It’s an understatement to say that Sirius was disappointed: these people were important to him, and Remus was important to him too, and Sirius didn’t understand why couldn’t they just get along.

When he asked his friend Reggie about it, he’d scratched his head uneasily: “Look, Sirius, I’m going to be honest, Remus seems like a fine enough guy, but for some reason, he always seems... I don’t know; suspicious of us or something. Almost like he fears we’re going to jump him any minute.” Sirius’ heart had sank and he had quickly changed the subject, so as not to show how hurt he was.

The last hopeless effort he made was to suggest Remus come with them to a gay club. He had agreed and a small sliver of hope had entered Sirius’ heart: after all, Remus loved music, and he loved dancing with Sirius: one of the few items they owned that could not be deemed an essential, was a turntable they’d purchased together: quite often, Remus would come home from uni with a new record he’d bought from some flea market, put it on, and sweep Sirius up for a dance.

His hope was short-lived, though: not even a half hour after they’d arrived, Remus had sat by the bar on his own, nursing a drink and looking downright miserable. 

Sharp anger and immense disappointment coursed through Sirius: no matter what he did, nothing worked: Remus hated his friends, and hated his way of life, and didn’t that mean Remus hated a part of him?

That night, Sirius drank himself stupid. He didn’t remember the next day, but Remus’ disdainful look while carrying him home was somehow branded in his memory.

From that day onward, something was not quite right between them anymore. The shift was so imperceptible that at times Sirius told himself he was imagining it, but it was there: a word spoken with an underlying hint of irony, bickering over a matter so trivial that they wouldn't have even mentioned before, Remus sleeping on his own side more often that in Sirius’ arms.

Sirius decided that there was nothing he could do about all of that: if Remus had some kind of irrational problem, Sirius had nothing to do with it.

He started going clubbing with his friends more and more often, simply announcing to Remus the fact that he was going without asking him if he’d like to come: he wouldn’t want to anyway, he told himself and quashed that tiny speck of guilt with anger.

And the thing was, he wasn’t even having that much of a good time: unbidden, his thoughts kept drifting back to Remus anyway: he drank to forget about him and have fun, but more often than not, it had the opposite effect.

One or two old flames of his had even approached him to ask him if he’d broken up and were, with harshness they probably didn’t deserve, sent to hell.

Thankfully, his friends were efficient in driving away any unwanted suitors he couldn’t deal with himself due to his stupor.

The evening after such a night, a month or so after that charade had started, Sirius was sitting in his armchair, slowly sipping tea, nursing a headache that had, thankfully, mostly subsided.

“Had fun last night?” Remus had asked him without even lifting his head from the book he was reading, his tone dripping with irony.

“What’s it to you? Why should you care?”

“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself quite often lately.”

“Well, then,” after a small pause, “but if you must know, I had quite a lot of fun indeed.”

“Oh, did you now? You must’ve had good company!”

“I had excellent company, indeed!” Sirius was so indignated at what Remus is insinuating that he remembers having trouble breathing.

“Well, then, if you had company as excellent as you say,” Remus put his book down and got up, his eyes shining with uncontained anger, “far be it from me to stand in your way. Perhaps you’d like for us to arrange some hours when I’m out, so that you and your company can have fun every day!”

It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Sirius could not contain himself. He felt like some invisible hand was choking him. “You really think… you really think that I could ever… how could you even think that of me?” choked sobs escaped his throat.

“Sirius, I’m sorry, I…” Remus’ voice was laden with guilt. He reached a hand towards him.

“Don’t fucking touch me! This is over!” And without another word, he stormed out of the apartment, without any sense of direction.

After walking aimlessly, he sat at a park bench for God knows how long, crying his eyes out, and after the tears ran out, blankly staring in the distance. Out of all the ways he feared it’d end, a bitter fight had never crossed his mind.

He was snapped out of his misery by the sound of rapid footsteps coming his way; he remembers turning to see Remus, his gaze frantic, approaching him.

“You forgot your coat, it’s freezing out here,” he said out of breath and extended his arm to give him his beige trenchcoat. Sirius took it wordlessly.

“Thanks. Didn’t go too far, did I?”

“No, you’re two blocks away from the house.”

“Pathetic.”

A pause.

“Sirius, I’m so, so, sorry about what I said, can you please come home?” The words rushed out of him all of a sudden, and there were few times he’d seen Remus look so desperate. He nodded.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it, I’m an idiot,” Remus said over and over as soon as they entered the apartment.

“Why would you tell me something like that?” Sirius asked, emotionally exhausted like never before.  
“Because I’m a complete idiot. I was just… ever since you started going out every other night without telling me, I… I didn’t know what to think; I was very hurt and… I guess I started getting paranoid. I was staying up at night thinking all sorts of ideas and…”

It was Sirius’ turn to say he was sorry. “I, well… I shouldn’t have done that, it was very stupid of me. I was just very hurt that you don’t like my friends and…”

“What? Who said I don’t like your friends?” 

“Oh, come on now, Remus, I can tell. They can tell themselves, actually.”

“No, I… I actually quite like your friends, Sirius!”

“You do?”

“Yes! Oh goodness, this is all so silly. If I ever seemed uncomfortable around your friends, it’s because… they remind me of what a coward I am.”

“What?” Sirius was getting more confused by the minute.

“They’re all so… So comfortable in their skin, so proud of who they are, and I can’t even bring myself to tell it to my own parents! I am very ashamed about all that.”

“You’re saying that like revealing yourself to the world is the simplest thing! Getting to that point requires time and effort. None of my friends woke up one day having accepted themselves, and that includes me! Did you forget that when I realised I liked you I panicked so much that I tried to date a girl?”

Remus chuckled at the memory. “Wow, I had indeed forgotten about that.”

“You are no coward, Remus Lupin. I don’t think so and my friends don’t think so either. Stop bringing yourself down.”

“I’ll try. Wow. We should’ve just talked to each other.”

“Better late than never. At least the charade’s over now.”

That night, they slept clinging to each other like a lifeline, and after that, things returned to normal.

Remus made an honest effort to get along with Sirius’ friends, and when he understood that they weren’t judging him for not being as open, they became his own friends as well.

Sirius stopped going to clubs without letting Remus know and more often than not, when he did, Remus accompanied him. After all, he did love a good dance tune. They went home much earlier than he used to when he was alone, and Sirius very much preferred it that way. Why stay out dancing when he could ravish his gorgeous boyfriend instead?

Sirius still marvels at how some honest communication could have prevented this collision, but, well, these were valuable lessons that needed to be learnt.

This is what Sirius is trying to remind himself now, against his urge to shake some sense into Remus by telling him how paranoid he’s being.

“Remus? Aren’t you happy your parents are coming?” he asks him again.

“Of course I am!” he answers, almost defensively.

“Well, you also seem… sort of panicked. And frankly, if this is concerning them finding out about us, you shouldn’t worry. We rehearsed the bit about my supposed girlfriend a thousand times. We’ve made up so many details about her that I almost feel like I’m in love with a bird named Cindy! We’ll keep our bedroom door locked and it’s not like it’s abnormal for two men to share a flat in London or even sleep in the same room if the house is this sma-”

“Sirius?” Remus cuts in.

“Yes?”

“I want to tell them,” he blurts out and Sirius’ brain screeches to a halt.

“Tell them what?” he asks tentatively.

“About us.”

“About us?”

“Need I repeat myself again?”

“No, no, I heard you, I just… Really?” Sirius was not expecting this. 

“Yes, really.”

“Are you sure?”

“Surer than anything in my life.”

“How… I mean, how come? Why now?” 

“Why not now? I think they suspect anyway.”

“Suspicion is one thing, confirmation is quite another. And you were always quite set on them not finding out. You’re the one who told them I have a girlfriend, for Pete’s sake! Right after announcing to them that we moved in together!” That had hurt Sirius more than he cared to admit at the time, but he was understanding as well, and he had come to accept his boyfriend’s wish to hide what they had.

“Well, ever since they phoned us to say they were coming, I’ve been thinking about it. That’s why I was so agitated. I didn’t want to say anything in case I changed my mind, but now I’m sure: I want to tell them.”

“Remus, you don’t have to force yourself to do that,” Sirius feels compelled to say.

“Nobody’s forcing me to do anything.” Remus lets out a breath, his brown eyes fixing themselves on him. “I love you, Sirius. You mean everything to me, and I want them to know that.”

Sirius gulps. Remus has said those three words few times, and every time he does, Sirius feels like he’s heard them for the first time.

Remus smiles sadly. “You know, Sirius, I feel like I’ve been loving you forever. I never even dreamt that I would, that I could feel this way for anyone, and yet...” he wipes a flake of flour off his palm.

Sirius does not know what to say. He feels so overwhelmed with love that he thinks he might burst into a million pieces.

“And if,” Remus continues, “if something should happen, I want them to know how much you meant to me.” 

An icy chill runs down Sirius’ spine. “Fuck, Remus, don’t say such things, nothing will happen, for fuck’s sake!”

“Let’s not mock ourselves, Sirius.” Remus’ eyes rise to meet his, and his gaze is tender, yet sad. “Nobody knows if… I never thought anything would happen to Michael, either, yet in just a month he…” 

Remus does not seem to be able to continue, but he does not need to. Every time Sirius closes his eyes, he sees Michael, a handsome man full of life only four months ago, lying in a hospital bed, sickly and thin beyond any recognition; he sees his boyfriend, Nick, crying and crying and crying as they took him away; he sees Remus’ ashen face that must have been mirroring his, and he can bet his life the same thought was running through both of their heads: what if tomorrow, this is us? 

Up until Michael, they were almost able to pretend that the world wasn’t falling apart around them: it was always a friend of a friend, someone they’d seen a couple of times but never really spoke to. And then, Remus’ classmate and one of his closest friends - and a friend of Sirius’, too - died in the span of just half a month.

Every aspect of life, every daily action, became heavy with that knowledge. Every mundane task has suddenly acquired significance. Sirius feels like they are constantly holding their breath, constantly bracing themselves for a blow that will come suddenly from a direction they can’t imagine.

Sometimes, Sirius remembers Walburga saying that homosexuals would one day be smitten by the wrath of god. Sirius bets that even her sadistic mind couldn’t fathom this.

If anything, though, society casting them out as pariahs, the people visibly backing away and refusing to touch a glass he’s drunk from because he “looks gay”, the government turning a blind eye and indirectly telling them they deserve what’s happening to them by uselessly stretching the importance of family values instead of trying to do something, anything, only strengthen Sirius’ resolve.

They are alone against an illness that is a death sentence without any salvation, against a society that at times almost rejoices at their calamity, and he’ll be damned if he’s not going to do something about it. He refuses to believe that the explanation for all this is “divine punishment”. He refuses to stand aside and watch as acquaintances and friends die while everyone else watches, apathetic. Thankfully, he has met some like-minded people and they are set upon following some type of action, though they don’t yet know what exactly.

Remus has changed a lot, too, Sirius now realises. Somehow, all of this has made him less scared, more determined. Him wanting to tell his parents is proof of that. 

He gets up, kneels in front of Remus and grabs both of his flour-covered hands in his. “You know that I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“But Sirius, this is something you can’t contro-”

“I don’t care, I’ll flip the universe upside down, I’ll personally fight God himself and make him eat his own halo if I have to, but I won’t let anything happen to you.” He’s saying these things to cheer Remus up, but he more than half-believes them: he’d go to the ends of the world for this boy; when he thinks of the things he’d be capable to do for him, he feels like the teenager he was once, the one that felt like he could eat the world raw.

His words have the desired effect. Remus’ face breaks into a smile. “And how, pray tell, are you planning to fight God?”

“What kind of question is this? I’ll ride to Heaven on my flying motorcycle!”

***

One hour before Hope and Lyall are supposed to arrive, Remus and Sirius are worriedly running around the house, trying to put the finishing touches to the table they’ve moved to the living room just for the occasion. The food is ready in the kitchen, the armchairs and coffee table have been re-located to the bedroom, where Remus has just gone to change into clothes different than the ones he’s been cooking in all day. Sirius has already put on his burgundy sweater and black jeans (one of the few non-torn pairs) and his hair is up in a neat ponytail.

Sirius takes in the table, clad in the white tablecloth they purchased a week ago, with the red festive napkins, the plain white dishes and the small plastic branch of mistletoe in the middle. He lets out a trembling sigh. Ever since they decided to tell Remus’ parents about the two of them, his heart has been hammering in his chest non-stop, or so he feels.

Maybe it’s crazy to tell them anything, he thinks for the umpteenth time, but he quashes that little voice with resolve. Despite the crippling fear, he knows that it’s the right thing to do.

When Remus emerges from the room in his chocolate-brown jumper, the one that exactly matches his eyes (that Sirius knew he had to buy him since he saw it in that upscale marquee, it was the exact shade, and then he saved up for two months, all the while praying it wouldn’t go out of stock, and when he finally gave it to Remus, he had such an astonished look in his eyes, as if it was the greatest thing anyone had ever gotten him) he forgets about all of that. Remus’ honey coloured hair is fluffy from recently being towel-dried, and the jumper brings out not only the colour of his eyes but also his freckles, and he’s looking at Sirius while biting his lip, and he’s got to be the most beautiful thing Sirius has ever laid his eyes on.

How can this man feel insecure about his appearance? he muses.

Sirius knows that he himself is attractive, but Remus has an irresistible charm that he’s not even aware of, a charm that has made Sirius bare his teeth at many a man ogling and flirting with his Remus, and the most frustrating part is the bastard doesn’t even realise it! When Sirius whines to him about it, he usually answers something along the lines of “What? flirting with me? Don’t be absurd, Sirius.”

If there’s one thing that keeps Sirius from spiraling into insanity, it’s knowing that no matter how many men throw themselves at him, Remus only has eyes for him. The thought makes him smile at his boyfriend.

“What?” Remus asks, smiling bashfully, and God, Sirius wants to ravish him then and there.

“Nothing. There’s just a very attractive man in my living room.”

“Stop with the sap and come check that everything’s in place. They’ll be here in ten minutes,” he scolds him while slightly blushing. 

“Alright, alright,” he concedes and starts heading to the kitchen. 

Before they can get there, the sound of the doorbell echoes and they freeze in their tracks.

“They’re here,” Sirius states dumbly.

“They’re here early,” Remus observes. They stare at each other for a second, dumbfounded, before Remus snaps into action and buzzes them in.

While Remus moves to open the front door, Sirius instinctively retreats to the far end of the living room. I’m not ready for this, he panics as he hears the footsteps on the stairs getting louder.

Remus steps out of the threshold and he loses him from his sight, the open door blocking the view.

“Mum! Dad!” he hears him say.

“Sweetheart, you’ve grown so much!” a familiar female voice answers.

“Don’t be absurd mum, it’s been what, four months since you last saw me?”

“She’s just being silly. Come on, Hope, let me hug my son, too! Merry Christmas, Remus!”

“Well come in, then,” he hears Remus say and Sirius’ heart is beating so loud he can barely breathe.

“Where’s…” the female voice starts asking, and just then, Hope steps in and sees him.

“Sirius!” she exclaims, and starts moving towards him at the exact same moment he starts moving towards her. When they meet in the middle, she envelops him in a tight, warm hug, as if he, too, is a son she has missed.

“I’m so happy to see you, Sirius,” she murmurs in his ear, without letting him go.

“Me too, Hope,” is all he can utter, his eyes closed. He had no idea how much he had missed Remus’ mother until now.

“Well, it seems to me that someone wants to have the monopoly on hugs today!” a voice behind him remarks, and Sirius and Hope separate.

“Hello, Lyall.”

“Hello, Sirius, it’s very good to see you again,” Lyall gives him a shorter but equally warm hug that brings him even closer to tears.

“It’s good to see you, too.” When Lyall also pulls back, he takes them both in. They haven’t changed a lot from the way Sirius remembers, Lyall with his light brown hair, his round glasses, his tall lanky frame that Remus takes from; Hope, slightly shorter, with her long curls, her pale skin and her kind, kind eyes that she has passed on to her son. Of course, the years that have gone by can be discerned through a wrinkle that’s gotten deeper and the odd silver hair, but overall, it’s like a day hasn’t gone by.

“Well, take off your coats and have a seat!” Remus, who has been standing aside watching the scene until now, instructs, and his parents comply. While Remus is hanging the coats, his parents take their places next to each other, and Sirius sits down facing them.

“My God, it’s been what, four and a half years?” Hope asks, smiling her radiant smile at Sirius.

“Indeed it has.”

“And look what a handsome young man you’ve become! You’ve grown so much!” Emotion is evident in her tone.

“Seems to me like yesterday you and James were eating lunch with us in Fenneltown!” Lyall adds.

“Time flies by, doesn’t it?” Remus chips in as he, too, takes his seat on Sirius’ right. He resists the urge to grab his boyfriend’s hand, just inches away from his.

“You can imagine our surprise when Remus told us he’d stumbled upon you by chance and you’d moved in together! It’s like something out of a movie!”

“He had to come to Fenneltown for the summer for us to find out. I swear he never tells us anything over the phone!” Hope good-naturedly complains. “Why didn’t you come with him? We’d love to see you!”

“Mum, I already told you, Sirius had to work.”

It’s the truth, Sirius had worked full-time in the garage for all of August; he really needed the money, but he regretted not being able to visit this beloved village that held so many dear memories for him.

“You know I would’ve loved to see you,” Sirius says.

“Of course we know, Sirius,” Lyall interjects. “Hope is just being sentimental,” he grabs his wife’s hand and squeezes it lightly. Sirius marvels at the casual affection between them, a stark difference from the cold and business-like manner his parents always acted around each other.

“Is it true what Remus told us? That you met at James’ wedding?” Lyall’s question snaps him out of his thought before he has the chance to sink in melancholy, thankfully. Christmas is a time when the memories of his family become more intense and painful: he was disowned in between Christmas turkey and dessert, after all.

“Yes! I was the best man and Remus was a plus-one with one of James’ wife’s friends! Strange how life works, sometimes.” He still can remember the utter astonishment he felt when he saw Remus again. He’d thought his eyes were playing him some kind of trick. 

“How’s dearest James, by the way?” asks Hope. “Remus told me he has a son now!”

“Yes, and though he’s not even six months old, he’s quite the little menace,” he smiles fondly at the memory of Harry crawling all over the house and terrorising the family cat.

“He takes after his godfather,” Remus jokes.

“It’s true. Lily keeps saying she should’ve made Remus the godfather instead and enjoyed a moment’s peace.”

“Well, don’t say that. Remus too was a handful when he was little! He only calmed down when he started primary school! Seems like he’d let it all out by then,” Lyall jokes.

“Remus, a handful? I can’t imagine that! I always thought you’d have been quite the little angel!” he turns to his boyfriend.

“Well, it seems you were mistaken.”

“You can’t have been worse than me, though. I loved to terrorise the maids when I was a baby. Plus, I’d come up with all these little pranks. I’d love to stick chewing gum into Bella’s hair, and mother would always yell…” he trails off, wondering exactly why he had begun that painful train of thought.

“Well! I think I’d better serve the soup before it grows cold, don’t you think?” Remus helpfully announces to break the awkward silence that has been created.

“I’ll help you,” Sirius offers and they both get up, heading to the kitchen.

“Thanks for that,” he tells his boyfriend while they’re pouring the pumpkin soup into a big bowl, “I don’t know why I started talking about them, all of a sudden.”

“Oh, don’t apologise for that, love. Your past is not a switch you can flick off. You shouldn’t beat yourself over remembering them, every once in a while.”

“You haven’t told them, right? About…”

“I’ve already told you, Sirius, of course not. This is something I had no business telling them. You’ll tell them yourself when and if you want to”

“Thank you,” Sirius contents himself with a gentle rub in Remus’ elbow, for fear that Hope or Lyall might see them.

“Here it is! Christmas pumpkin soup!” Remus announces a few moments later as he puts the bowl down on the table. Sirius follows in tow with a bottle of white wine.

“Mmm that smells delicious!” Hope exclaims and Sirius cannot help but agree. The scent is downright heavenly.

They all busy themselves with eating, all conversation forgotten momentarily. Sirius and Lyall even help themselves to a second portion.

They chat about this and that for a while longer, and the chicken is served.

“Sorry we don’t have a turkey, but I’m afraid our little oven could never handle something like that,” Remus apologises while distributing the portions.

No one cares, though. It tastes delicious all the same.

In between bites, Sirius finds out that the fourth member of their teenage summer quartet, Peter Pettigrew, is now working full-time at his parents’ grocery shop, and that he’s grown into quite the chauvinist, and a devoted follower of Maggie as well. Sirius is not surprised. There was always something off about that lad.

He tries to focus on Lyall, who’s telling them about how Lupin’s Lunar Library, the family bookshop, is doing, but he finds it increasingly difficult to hear the words over the roaring in his ears.

The moment is approaching. They’re picking up the dishes slowly and carrying them towards the kitchen. While Sirius is trying to stack them up in the small sink, Remus is de-forming the pudding. Each is doing their task jitteringly, betraying their anguish.

“We’re doing this, right?” Sirius asks Remus in the tone of a young child turning for reassurance.

“Yes. We are.” His gaze is calm, reassuring. “I want to. And I know you want it, too.”

Sirius nods his head. He can’t help but compare this to the night he told his own parents. It’s been exactly four years now. He remembers how it just burst out of him, how he couldn’t stand the suffocation of pretending anymore. He didn’t hesitate for one moment. He didn’t feel any fear, not when his mother’s terrifying eyes shone with cold anger, not when he heard he was to pick up his belongings and never come back again. Sadness came later, and anger, and regret, for Regulus mostly, for not taking the time to properly say goodbye. But fear? He didn’t feel that for one second.

Now, however, he doesn’t remember being more terrified in his life.

Because, ultimately, he didn’t give a rat’s arse about what Walburga and her awful clan thought of him.

However, if lovely Hope and kind Lyall, who have shown so much love to him, whom, despite the years that have passed since he’d last seen them, he regards with such tenderness, if they reject him like the Blacks did, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to take it.

As if he’s read his thoughts, Remus takes his hand in his, brings it close to his lips, and kisses it. It’s a gesture they picked up when they were sixteen in Fenneltown. It instantly manages to reassure Sirius. No matter what happens, this time round, he’ll have Remus. 

They’ll be alright.

“Shall we?” Sirius suggests.

“We shall,” Remus confirms and they step into the living room.

After making another silly apology about the pudding not having had the time to mature (he should shut up, honestly, everything ends up tasting amazing anyway) they all dig in but him. Sirius hasn’t ever been a fan of this particular dessert, and his stomach is currently in a knot.

When they finish eating, Lyall surprises him by getting up and saying “Well, I think it’s time.”

“For what?” Sirius dumbly asks.

“For your Christmas presents!” he heads to where they left their coats, and picks up a paper bag. “It’s no big thing, but we hope you like them.”

He hands Remus a blue package. “Remus,” he turns to his son, “we tried to find something a little out of your usual reading pool, so here. It’s a crime novel starring a cannibal.” Sirius turns and sees the book Remus is holding: The Red Dragon, the title reads, over an appropriately crimson background.

“Thank you!” Remus hugs his parents.

“And Sirius, don’t think we’ve forgotten about you!” Lyall gives an astonished Sirius a smaller red package.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have,” he carefully tries to undo the packaging until Hope says, “Oh for God’s sake, Sirius, tear the paper!” and he obliges. A white book. In the middle of the cover, a small white house. The Color Purple, Alice Walker reads the title in big violet letters.

“We remember how much you loved reading feminist literature in Fenneltown and we think you’ll enjoy this one.”

“I…” Sirius keeps his eyes glued at the book in his hand, not knowing what to say.

“Sirius, love, are you alright?” 

“No, I’m fine, I just… It’s just that you remember what I did four entire years ago while my own parents, they… they never cared. They disowned me without a second thought the moment they found the opportunity.” That last phrase slips out before he can contain it, but he honestly feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders.

“Oh my God, they did what? When?” Hope asks, shock colouring her tone.

“Four years ago, now. On Christmas day. Haven’t spoken to them since.”

“Oh goodness, Sirius, I’m so sorry,” sorrow is evident in her eyes.

“Sirius, I’m also very sorry this happened to you,” Lyall speaks up, “but all in all, they’re the ones that should feel bad. They lost a wonderful son.”

“Thank you,” Sirius says plainly, but Lyall’s simple statement has moved him more than he cares to admit. 

“Open the book! There’s something for you inside!” he prompts, smiling kindly.

When he does as asked, something slips and falls on the floor. He bends and picks up a small polaroid picture, which he sees depicts a kitten that can’t be more than a few weeks old, with jet-black fur and blue eyes. Underneath, in fine black letters, is written the word Sirius.

“Do you remember Venus?” Lyall asks Sirius.

“Of course I do. Who could forget this white beauty? I remember all of the bookshop cats: Hercules, Venus, Ophelia, Minerva…” he smiles sadly. After meeting again, Remus informed him that Minerva, or Minnie, as he affectionately called her, his favourite cat, had passed away that year.

“Well, Venus had a litter this November, and this little guy was the only one that came out all black, so we named him Sirius! We thought you’d like to see your namesake!”

“I… You have no idea what this means to me,” his voice is trembling.

A little kitten named Sirius! After him! He cannot hide his emotion over the tenderness this gesture conveys.

“Oh, Sirius, we already told you, you’re like a son to us!” Hope exclaims, which only serves to bring him closer to tears. “You’ve been such a wonderful friend to Remus all these years, and we’re so happy you two got to meet again!”

He feels a familiar hand rub soothing circles on his shoulder, and he turns to face Remus, who is regarding him with a look full of tenderness, but with an underlying question. 

Are you ready?

Sirius searches within himself, and finds out he is not afraid anymore.

He nods.

“We’re not friends,” Remus says.

“What?” Lyall asks, confused.

“You said he’s been a wonderful friend. The truth is, he’s never been a friend to me, because I’ve always loved him.”

Sirius inhales sharply.

“Even back when we were sixteen, and I didn’t know what love was, I still loved him. Even after we separated for so long, I never stopped loving him. And now that we met again, I fell in love with him again, even more, if that is even possible.”

Hope has put a hand to her mouth and her eyes are flickering from Remus, to Sirius, to Remus back again. Lyall is just staring at them, expressionless.

“And I love Remus, too,” Sirius finds the voice to speak up. “Ever since that summer when I met him. That summer we… we were together. And when I left, I felt like I’d lost a part of myself. And now, I feel like I’ve found it again. I… will totally understand it if you hate me after that, but I want you to know that being with your son is the most beautiful thing that’s happened to me. And I don’t think that something that feels so beautiful could ever be wrong, no matter what anyone says. And it’s something I’ll never regret. You’ve been like parents to me, and I love you, but no matter what, I won’t stop being with Remus.”

“Same goes for me,” Remus says. “Mum, dad, for the longest time I was afraid of what you’d think of me, afraid I might anger or disappoint you. I’m still sorry if this disappoints you, but my love for him won’t change. I hope you can understand.” Remus hand leaves Sirius’ shoulder, where it had been resting all this time, and finds his. Hope and Lyall’s eyes travel down to the spot where their palms are intertwined.

Nobody says anything after Remus finishes talking. Sirius squeezes Remus hand harder, not daring to look his parents in the eye.

“Oh, you silly, silly boys!” Hope’s voice, almost a sob, breaks the silence. “Did you really think we’d be angry at you? Did you think so little of us?”

“Honestly, mum, we didn’t know what to expect,” Remus tentatively answers.

“We’ve known, Remus. We’ve known ever since you were sixteen,” Lyall tells him. “No one stays at home for days just because they fought with a friend; no one mourns the loss of a friend as desperately as you mourned Sirius. We’ve both been in love. We recognised the signs.”

“And when you came to Fenneltown this summer, and told us about Sirius,” Hope continues, “there was such a glow in your eyes every time you spoke of him, that it was clearer than day that you still feel the way you did back then.”

“And if I am upset at what you told us, it’s only because you’re my son, and I care about you, and you’ll have it that much more difficult than if you’d loved a woman. People are going to hate you, based only on that. And there’s also that terrible disease…”

“Don’t speak of that, Lyall.”

“I’m afraid it’s a reality, Hope, and not talking about it won’t make it go away,” Hope opens her mouth to speak, but Lyall beats her to it. “But I also know,” he turns to them, “that all of this matters little to you. It would take a blind man to not see how devoted to each other you are. And ultimately, though I worry and fear for you, both of you, I am happy you have each other. I know that my son has found someone that truly loves him and whom he truly loves in return; and the rest, I’ll make peace with in time.” 

“Thanks, dad,” Remus says shakily, “can I hug you?” his voice cracks at that last phrase.

“You never have to ask,” he opens his arms and Remus falls inside. When they break the hug, he approaches Sirius.

“Take good care of him.” He clasps his hands in his; “he can be stubborn like his mother sometimes.”

“Trust me, I know,” they smile at each other conspiratorially.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, boys, I need a breath of fresh air. But I’ll be back to see you again before we leave London,” he takes his coat and with one last salute, he is out of the apartment.

“Oh, boys, don’t be cross with him,” Hope apologises, “he’s just been very worried about what he’s been reading in the paper lately.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Of course I am, it’s just that your father and I have different ways of coping with things. But he loves you both very much, I hope you know that.”

“Of course we do, Hope,” Sirius says, “the kind of reaction you both had... most people can’t even dream of it. Parents as loving, as accepting as you… they are rarer than you can imagine.” In the midst of all the fear, hatred and uncertainty, their reaction feels like an oasis.

“Thank you, mum,” Remus embraces her tightly.

“Come here too, you idiot,” he beckons Sirius, who obliges, and the three of them envelope each other in a big hug.

“Well, boys, I’d better go find my husband,” Hope says when they pull back, her eyes shiny. “Goodbye, darlings, take care. And please be very, very careful,” she takes her coat and with one last round of goodbyes, she, too, is out.

As soon as she closes the door, Sirius suddenly feels more emotionally drained than he has been in a very long time. But, he realises, he also feels relieved, with an undercurrent of happiness that he knows will be felt more strongly once he’s not so exhausted.

“I’m very proud of you, you know?” he tells his boyfriend. “What you did today… I know how hard it was for you. You’ve grown so much from the boy I met that summer.”

“Same goes for you. You’ve tried so hard to make what we have work, and I’m so grateful for that,” he lays a kiss on Sirius’ cheek.

“Do you think that next time we see your parents, we should tell them that I don’t actually have a girlfriend named Cindy?”

“You’re an idiot,” Remus chuckles, and immediately after stifles a yawn. “Goodness, I don’t feel like cleaning any of this today,” he gestures to the pile of dishes stacked on the table and in the kitchen.

“It can wait for tomorrow then. Let’s go to sleep.”

“You’re full of brilliant ideas,” Remus’ voice is laced with exhaustion and tenderness.

“I always am,” he tiredly jokes. They step into the bedroom.

“Sirius?” Remus murmurs after they’ve lain down and turned off the light, “everything will be alright, won’t it? We’ll be alright.”

“Of course we will. We’ll be alright,” he answers back. 

He hugs Remus tighter in his arms and somehow, he believes it.

He closes his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Back in 1982, the AIDS crisis in Britain was still in its early stages; the causes of the disease were largely unknown and, in fact, it wasn't even called AIDS, but GRID (gay-related immune deficiency). As the name betrays, it was believed to be related to homosexuals only, a belief that was later proved erroneous. The stigma the gay community had to deal with, on top of the death of loved ones, was enormous. All of this served to create various activist movements, in many of which Sirius undoubtedly took part.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Leave a comment to tell me what you think, if you'd like!
> 
> Stay tuned this week to be able to read @electracute's amazing fic about two certain girls that appear to be complete opposites... except they have more in common than they think.


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